


till we meet face to face

by pRESENTMIC



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron: concerned mom, Alex doesn't die, Alex is actually being nice to Thomas, Alex: is suddenly a counselor, Angst, Historically Inaccurate Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Era, Poor Thomas, Thomas: a human mess, no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pRESENTMIC/pseuds/pRESENTMIC
Summary: Alexander never imagined that he'd be the one comforting his enemy.





	

Aaron and Alexander walked down the sidewalk of New York. Today was their anniversary, their “one year” anniversary to be exact. What better way to celebrate then to go to a bar? Not just any bar, the best bar in town. The York Bar. 

Their shoes hit the worn cement rhythmically as they took their time to get to their destination. Aaron tapped Alexander's right shoulder, his hand hesitant. The latter turned to face Aaron, his eyebrows raised up at the pause of movement. “Is something wrong?” Alexander said, concern evident in his voice.

Aaron opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it. “Nevermind. It's not important.” He grasped Alexander’s hand and sped up the pace of their walking. As they drew nearer to the colorful bar the couple noticed a peculiar sight. An exquisite, likely expensive, car was settled on the curb of the sidewalk.

Alexander had seen the sight many times, but he couldn't seem to comprehend why the situation seemed so offbeat. He stood still, dragging Aaron to a stop besides him. “I feel like something's wrong.” He murmured, tension rising in the atmosphere.

A low groan emitted from the alleyway.

Aaron stared at Alexander with a frightened look. For once Aaron seemed to have an opinion of the situation. “We should go. We can always come back another time.”

Alexander frowned, his eyebrows narrowing, but nodded in agreement. He turned around, only to stop as another noise peeped through the silence. “I think we should check.” Alexander whirled around and crept up towards the alley wall. 

Aaron hissed, “Alexander, we don’t know who or what's their! Let's go!” 

Alexander shook his head stubbornly. He pressed his finger against Aaron's mouth as he opened his mouth in protest. 

“Excuse me?” Alexander called out, his voice wary.

“What do you want, Hamilton.”

An extremely familiar Southern accent pierced Alexander's senses. 

“Jefferson? What the hell are you doing in an alleyway? Shouldn't you be stuffing your fat mouth with macaroni at some French cuisine?” Alexander's voice grew more confident as he realized who this was. 

“Leave me alone.”

Alexander stopped his retort at the other man’s exhausted voice. It was only then when he noticed the sharp scent of alcohol. He peered around the corner and saw the pitiful sight of Jefferson.

His suit was disheveled as the man rested against the alleyway, his back flat to the brick wall. His hair stuck out, the opposite of the neat afro of spring coils the man always had. On the ground lay bottles of wine and beer. How he had attained them was a mystery.

“Thomas … do you need a ride home?” Aaron’s tentative voice brought Alexander back to reality. 

Jefferson waved a hand sluggishly in the air as if to dismiss them. 

Aaron frowned and stepped forward. He reached down, his nose crinkling at the smell of beer, and pulled Jefferson onto his unsteady feet.

Alexander managed to get a good view of his co-worker’s face and cringed. Dark bags hung under his eyes and an unhealthy red colored his cheeks. The guy looked absolutely defeated. 

He looked up at the sound of footsteps and hurried over to assist Aaron with the stumbling mess of a man. He draped an arm over his shoulder and led Jefferson to his car. “Do you have your keys?” Alexander said, a rare gentle tone creeping into his voice. It was hard to despise the man in front of him at the moment.

Aaron answered for him. “Yeah. Thomas, is it alright if we drive you back home in your car?”

Jefferson simply nodded and Alexander shrugged. He took the keys out of Aaron's hand and unlocked the car. He opened the front door as Aaron got into shotgun after he had draped Jefferson onto the back seat.

Alexander stared with disgust at the mess that was laid before his very eyes. Crumpled cans of beer, and cracked bottles were stacked underneath the driver's wheel.

Using his foot, he shoved aside the mess and turned the engine on.

 

...

 

They had managed to find their way around Jefferson’s house. With a great amount of difficulty, they had shoved his sleeping body onto a strange alcove bed between an office and a bedroom.

Deciding against leaving without checking on Jefferson, Aaron and Alexander quietly sat in the dining room exchanging few words. The clock ticked as the hands moved with each passing minute.

“MARTHA-” A sharp cry rang out, terminating the silence.

Aaron and Alexander sprang to their feet as they rushed down the winding halls to the alcove bed which was, thankfully, nearby. 

Jefferson panted, the sheets torn off of the bed. “Jefferson?” Alexander whispered, reaching a hand out to the helpless man.

He flinched away and sat up, rubbing his eyes, which were red with tears. “Why are you here, Alexander.” 

“Because we found you in the alleyway in risk of being arrested.” Aaron said. A moment of silence washed over them. “Would you care to tell us what's wrong?”

Jefferson scoffed as he turned his head away from Aaron. “Why should I even tell you? It doesn't matter.”

“Yes, it obviously doesn't concern us that your car is flooded with bottles of alcohol.” Aaron deadpanned as Jefferson refused to make eye contact.

The crickets chirped signalling the transition of night. Jefferson sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “My fiancé died of sickness a week ago.”

Everything was still. 

Jefferson sat up. “The doctors couldn't do anything. They already did the most they could do.”

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Thomas. That's no excuse for drinking yourself to death.”

“It's the only way to stop thinking.” Jefferson shot back.

“We both know what it’s like to grieve, Jefferson, but being an alcoholic won't help you.” Alexander gave Jefferson a tight smile. He ran his hand across the surface of Jefferson's mattress cover. “Think about it. Let yourself know. It'll help you.”

Jefferson made no sound of protest, surprisingly. Alexander sighed, mentally despising himself, he leaned over and spread his arms out in front of Jefferson.

The other reciprocated the move hesitantly. The two wrapped their arms around each other as Jefferson's shoulder shook with quiet sobs.

“It'll pass over.” Alexander closed his eyes, leaning into Jefferson.

Aaron smiled at the sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thomas was married to Martha. Originally Martha died because she grew weak from her many childbirths and passed away.
> 
> Yup


End file.
